


"Garibaldi missed you"

by supercalifragili



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalifragili/pseuds/supercalifragili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry should have known. The voice, the politeness, the cadence of speech, the tone, he had to know. He remembers in flashes what was it like to hear that voice early in the morning, he remembers the heat of his hand under the comforters in cold days. Harry remembers how he felt when he looked at him when he slept, God, he remembers like it was yesterday, he can feel it on his skin, the shivers, the good morning pressed on his neck and bitten on his shoulder. It’s been so long.</p><p> </p><p>Liam is back for Harry's Birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Garibaldi missed you"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I've been awayyyy not for long, but a while, I guess. I was writing and then I wasn't. I would read my writings and press the backspace key for so long the document would return to a blank again... They call it writer's block?? I'm not a writer, though! I just like talking to myself a lot through fictional characters, write gibberish down... and then polish it a little.  
> I've put a title to this but mind me... My word document for this fic is still named "Lirry IDK WHAT THIS IS".  
> Figures.  
> Ahhhh, yeah. I hope you'll like this and I hope...idk what I'm hoping. I'm sorry for any mistakes you'll find on the way. It's finals week and I obviously thought about writing a Lirry fic! As if I have the time to do so!  
> Have a good reading, hopefully!  
> Thank you.

_“I wish we could and I think we should”_

 

The bar is not crowded, the mist of alcohol and sweat and sophisticated make Harry feel jittery anyway. He knows this kind of ambient- he’s been invited one too many times for him not to be used to seeing the phony and superficial among all the people he sees there- he feels quite unsettled. A few people came by, gave him kisses and flew away. Niall and Louis left a little after midnight; Louis was babbling something about a wonderful birthday present and Niall was about to kick him in the nuts. Harry watched them go, then he sat down on one of the stools by the windows of the bar and sipped a glass of water while watching outside.

He feels strange, on the edge and he wants to eat a burger; he wants curly fries too. He wants to go home and watch E.T. or something.

Harry never thought he’d see him again- not here, not now, and above all not on his birthday- the memory of those eyes in rainy nights under the blankets of his bed only make his heart thump. To think that he threw everything that he used to own with him and picked it up again the day after. He wishes he could send time back again.

He could have tried harder, he could have loved harder and he probably didn’t. If there is one regret gripping and heaving his chest is this: not fighting.

Being much of a lover and less of a fighter is quite troublesome sometimes, Harry believes he strays away from that now. Before he found himself not saying anything even if he wanted to, nobody was stopping him- no one would have dared to anyway- but he never said anything.

Harry should have known. The voice, the politeness, the cadence of speech, the tone, he had to know. He remembers in flashes what was it like to hear that voice early in the morning, he remembers the heat of his hand under the comforters in cold days. Harry remembers how he felt when he looked at him when he slept, God, he remembers like it was yesterday; he can feel Liam on his skin, the shivers, the _good morning_ pressed on his neck and bitten on his shoulder. It’s been so long.

It’s not easy to not remember, it’s easy to overlook those pictures on his phone and say that he's doing just fine. They’re just better this way.

They left it like that, a _Goodbye, see you_ soon that from a month to a year to three seemed like a definite farewell.

“Liam,” Harry says, it feels old and new when it comes out of his lips as if he had not been saying the same name for years now. Liam looks up and doesn’t say anything, he just smiles and prompts him over his side with a hand. He doesn't look surprised or maybe he's just faking it.

Liam doesn't fake things; he’s surrounded by people Harry knows to well and Liam should be worried of, but who is he… not a kid for sure.

He looks good. He looks so fucking good Harry feels elated for a moment; he doesn’t know what to do with himself, but he schools his face as best as he can, he always tried to school himself. There are too many people watching, too many people talking, but good God… Liam is like that glass of Brunello di Montalcino he carefully sipped two weeks ago during an event, impeccable. He looks expensive and old and Harry didn’t go to church in a long time.

The Devil is tempting him.

He kisses the cross necklace and breathes, his lips tingle at the feel of the silver. Liam is still looking at him while some man talks uselessly about a magazine he’d like Liam to be featured in. Liam, polite as ever, listens and nods at the right times. He's good at making people feel like they're important and every word they say is valuable.

“Two-fourths of One Direction in a sketchy bar down in Surrey!” says Marylyn with a smile, Liam smiles back, it feels distant, it doesn’t reach his eyes and Harry pushes himself in the midst of the group formed around him. Liam has a hand ready on his waist and Harry thinks about the word _relief_ for a second before he remembers he’s got a past he wouldn’t be able to talk of once again.

“Ahh Marylyn, seems you don’t know me that well…” Liam laughs and Marylyn cocks her head to the side with a smile, she looks rather dazzling in her faux fur. Harry doesn’t understand what Liam meant by that, he feels too new right now. There's something different in the way he poses himself and Harry can't quite figure out what to think of that.

“Pardon me, Liam!”

Harry’s coat is not that heavy, but he takes it off. Liam’s hand is underneath it, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of his silk shirt. The thrill that his fingers cause just by touching is too much to bear sometimes. Liam doesn’t look like he knows.

It looks like three years didn’t divide them.

It wasn't easy, it felt like grasping and ripping part of what he was with Liam for more than three years, but it wasn't that hard too. To remember is one thing, to feel like it's been since years they’ve seen each other is another; Harry can't differentiate the feeling of comfort and the sensation that bubbles inside his belly, he can’t give it a name. It's a good feeling, it's like the feeling Liam's hands on him used to provoke, it's the same feeling Harry used to fall apart to under starry nights.

Harry closes his eyes- not now, not now, not now.

The conversation seems to go on to the point in which Harry grows quite impatient of it. Liam’s pointer is scratching at the band of his pants and Harry’s not one that can bear much when it’s about Liam; he's one that likes to wait and leave things unsaid, but Liam is in Darien’s Chateau- their Darien’s Chateau- and Harry still doesn't know why. He wouldn't care, he shouldn't, but-

"Sergio, I may need to speak with Liam as well, after all," Harry says, he doesn't mean to interrupt, but Liam seems to have time for everyone and he should know Harry doesn't like being kept at bay. It's not jealousy, it's more of an attention-seeking pattern that initiates itself every time he registers Liam beside him.

It’s not jealousy.

The crowd disperses really slowly; people seem to crave off Liam’s warmth too eagerly and Harry would like to cover him with a blanket and keep him away. He doesn’t share that well and if he can’t share he just leaves. He wasn’t ever able to share Liam with other people; he remembers it clearly. If he wasn’t able to keep something-or someone- he’d just move onto another thing and maybe that’s what was wrong… what he could have changed.

Everything was given quite easily to him from the very beginning, he didn’t really have to fight for much, he didn’t really want to. He managed not to care, to swallow down and keep a façade; it really helped sometimes. It grew too much on him in the end, even if it was for his own personal good.

Liam had always been always good at keeping people safe, people he loved, there were to many according to Harry. ‘That’s not safe’ he used to say, Liam would shrug innocently like he used to and smile. ‘There is nothing I should hate them for’, he'd say; while that was a good argument Harry didn’t understand it _They don’t like you, Liam. They like what you have. They’re just pretending_.

Liam is not naïve, but he has too much faith in people. Liam always gave too much of himself; he’s a really merciful giver.

At his own expense.

“Came to save me?” Liam kisses his forehead like it’s nothing. Harry doesn’t actually realize how this feels until Liam smiles and rubs the back of his head. He closes his eyes and _dammit,_ he thinks. This is too much.

“They would have devoured you, Liam. They were eating you piece by piece”

Liam sings quietly and Harry shakes his head, he’s got such a young spirit. He’s got too much of that; Harry would like to steal some of it for himself. He’s a bit selfish sometimes.

“You’re way too kind”

“You are as well” Harry rolls his eyes; he thinks he’s a different sort of _kind_.

“Why are you here?” Harry asks, he’s not that curious, but it’s been three years. Three long years of not hearing from Liam, not seeing Liam, nor in the papers nor anywhere, really. He was worried at first, he tried calling and after a month he left it, he tried that time. He should have tried other times too; he should have tried till today.

Liam still has his hand on Harry’s hip, he doesn’t seem to realize it until they have to sit down, there’s a little section in the basement of the bar. Harry stays there every time, he’s not that much of a socialite.

The walls are cold, they remind Harry that he’s been feeling quite flustered, his cheeks feel like a blazing fire against the wall. Liam laughs when he rests his face on it, he looks like he’s about to say-

“You’re going to get a cold” Harry smiles, God, he missed him, he still does.

“Why are you here, then?”

Liam’s wearing glasses, he used to wear them at times, to see a bit far. He used to wear them when theywere able to have breakfast outside. Harry takes the glasses off his face and wears them; they are prescription glasses, Liam's eyesight has gone a pinch too bad. He puts them down by Liam's side and he wonders how much did he miss, how much did Liam change in three years.

He’s wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned, it looks like he was wearing a suit, the pants are fitted.

Liam always wore suits for financial meetings with the board, back in the day. He looked so good in them and Harry always loved taking them off him. Liam had a tailor, Tatsuki-san. Tatsuki had such magical hands, great taste and a good eye for accessories, he was a match with Liam. Harry remembers when Tatsuki would come by with a new fabric and take Liam’s sizes, he loved everything about their ritual. They would talk for ages, laugh and joke while Liam lifted his arms up and put them down for Tatsuki to measure the expanse of his chest and waist. They would talk about the stocks and entrepreneurship, life, Tatsuki's kids- Daigo and Suzuki- and happiness. Liam made Tatsuki love his job, and Tatsuki loved Liam like he was his own son.

“Just came back, Paddy had me in for a meeting and Dominique brought me here,” Liam says noncommittally 

Dominique, his financial adviser.

“You know what’s today?”

“Your birthday. Happy Birthday!” he smiles genuinely. Harry chuckles and smiles too, he can’t contain it anymore. “No chest hair, no beard, bigger hair… Wonderful”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. You stole my chest hair, I believe” Liam cracks a smile, his cheeks fill and Harry thinks he looks so beautiful like that.

“I surely did… Happy Birthday, Harry! Guess what my present is?”

“You?”

“You flatter me too much, what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, I’m 26 and I didn’t see you for three years… I couldn’t contact you or I don’t know, you didn’t want me to call you?”

It hurts a little to say it like that; he was worried for a really long time, he didn’t know what it could have been of Liam. After saying that he was doing good, he felt like he was breaking piece by piece. Harry wanted to throw away everything, everything that smelled like him and reminded Harry of him, their place, bed, covers, clothes, Harry’s own skin. He missed him.

“You were clear and what say do I have in what you decide for yourself? Am I the boss of you?” he says it like it’s obvious and Harry knows it is, he knows.

 _But you were my life for so long_. He wants to say it, he swallows it down and no-

“You were a part of me for so long, you can’t just disappear” Liam is looking at him like he’s acting brand new and maybe he is. He looks adorable when he’s confused.

_God, please save me._

“I hope it’s clear I wasn’t the one that fucked you over…” Liam says, still obvious tone. His Liam would have said something different, something reassuring- even if it wasn’t his fault.

“I called you so many times… What’s my birthday present?”

Liam hums something, the sound he makes is amazing, it’s what Harry listened to for a couple of months on the phone, voicemails, voice memos, little videos he recorded… He wishes he could have recorded more. Liam's humming sounds like a little bit of _all I ever wanted was the truth_ , it seems like an attack, but Harry doesn’t mind it. He’d deserve quite a number of strikes; this is nothing… it stings a little though. He still remembers that song, Liam’s memory bank is enormous.

“You know what that means?” he asks, Harry doesn’t answer, he makes an aborted noise and shrugs “I gifted you a diary, I’ve written on it… I missed you too” he holds the diary out and Harry remembers how many birthday presents he kept down in case Liam was to come back. He never did.

He wants to cry a little, he didn’t try hard; if there’s a person Harry wished he tried hard for, it’d be Liam.

The diary is quite small, but it’s used, its pages are foxed brown and some pages are quite crumpled, Harry itches to read it right in front of Liam, but he doesn’t… He just wants to kiss him.

Kiss him and hold him forever.

“Thank you. I have so many… so many gifts there for you. Where did you go?”

“You’re awfully curious, Harry”

“You disappeared for three years, Liam!” Liam looks surprised by his reaction. Harry didn’t mean to raise his voice; he didn’t mean… He doesn’t know what he means.

“I did. I just went to some places for myself, to stay by myself”

Harry doesn’t push it; he can’t do much right now. He’s the one that didn’t want them anymore, he’s the one that decided, they used to stay up and Liam by then was too tired to say anything, he’d fought for them so much and Harry wishes he would have done the same.

Liam’s lips look soft, they look of the same colour they would be when Harry used to bite them and pull them.

His leg tickles under the table, the sensation prickles and it has Harry catching a breath.

“I’m going to go,” Liam says, he picks the beer he was sipping and Harry reaches out, he holds out on his wrist, he holds on tight… He doesn’t still know if this is a dream, but the warmth of Liam’s skin is overwhelming, almost dizzying.

He’s not drunk, but he wants to be.

“Garibaldi missed you,” Harry says

“Me too”

Liam looks at his hand where Harry’s holding him and he sighs “I’ll bring you home, up, come on”

When Harry leaves the bar nobody notices, he’s glad for that; holding Liam’s hand makes him quite frazzled and he’s feeling too good to just go up to other people and kiss them goodbye.

 _Liam’s here, he’s here_. It’s a mantra inside his brain.

When they get out, Harry gets hit with a sudden breeze, the air is so cold and his cheeks almost hurt at the sting of it. Paddy’s there with the car, he looks…not surprised, like he expected Liam to bring Harry home. He says, “Hi” like the old times and asks him how he has being. Harry feels like he’s at home while Paddy drives down the street.

He’s never felt like that since Liam went away.

Harry just hopes he lived farther away… he wishes he’d live continents away and they could travel the distance by car and maybe lose themselves; the car comes to a stop, he’s so tired.

Liam doesn’t say anything, he just gets off the car and Harry follows him silently, his hand is itching in Liam’s hold.

“We’re here” Liam looks at him like he’s waiting for him to open the door and get inside, but Harry stays put. Stubbornly so.

“Will you be here?” Harry asks, just to know. Just because now he can’t bear the thought of Liam not being around, he’s venal like that.

“I don’t know, Harry”

“I’m meeting with Niall tomorrow; would you have breakfast with-”

“I’m busy tomorrow… Call me, alright? I’ll answer, I promise”

“I know I- hurt you, I’m just trying to… to say sorry. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“It’s alright, Harry. It’s all gone, sleep alright?” while that feels really dismissive Harry doesn’t fault him for it, Harry shouldn’t fault him for anything.

“Okay, I—Goodnight, Liam” his voice sounds a bit strained or maybe it's the weather

Liam smiles, it’s the same smile he used when he used to kiss him goodnight and Harry’s expecting it, but it never comes.

It’s fine. There are so many things that Harry lost, so many parts of Liam Harry might never get the chance to see again, but it’s fine.

Or that’s what he tells himself.

“Goodnight, Harry”

Liam leaves, his steps on the cobblestone walkway to his car sound so familiar, Harry feels nostalgic while he stands there in the cold. Garibaldi mews from inside, but Liam doesn’t seem to hear it.

Harry picks their cat when he steps in; Garibaldi looks rather sad and somewhat relieved. Harry feels like that too.

He doesn’t fall asleep, flickers of memories and Liam and his voice make him stay awake. He doesn’t even know if he’s dreaming, his heart is beating way too fast.

He picks up his phone and breathes, it feels like a task now; he looks at the lock screen for a while. Harry smiles while Garibaldi purrs quietly by his side. He unlocks his mobile, opens the Photos app and goes back three years.

He loved Liam so much and he didn’t do enough. 


End file.
